


Simple Things

by Azaisya



Series: to those left behind, the dead and the dying [2]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Can be read as a stand alone, Cassandra deserves friends, Gen, Minor Character Death, also featuring loose interpretations of dnd spell mechanics for plot convenience, and Cassandra being herself, featuring Kima doing paladin things, set sometime between episodes 48 and 57
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-16 16:56:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16957911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azaisya/pseuds/Azaisya
Summary: With so many wounded in Castle Whitestone after the fall of Emon, Kima and Cassandra do their best to keep everybody alive. Along the way, they look out for each other.  // Or: One of the the refugees takes a turn for the worse, and Cassandra fetches Kima to help.





	Simple Things

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I'm only on episode 85, but I've had this written since before I got to the part where Umbrasyl was killed. It takes place sometime after Kima gets to Whitestone and Pike rejoins Vox Machina for the Westruun/Umbrasyl series of events, but before Allura and Drake arrive in Whitestone. 
> 
> I just have so many thoughts about Kima's role as a healer (because she _is_ a paladin) despite the fact that she so clearly prefers fighting, and I've also thought a lot about how uncomfortable Cassandra must be around death (moreover around undeath)
> 
> Disclaimer II: I don't own Critical Role or any of its characters.

Kima was exhausted. After Vox Machina’s departure, her ability to heal was sorely needed among the refugees in Whitestone. As a paladin, she’d always preferred smiting her foes to tending to the wounded. She despised being around illness or vomit, and she didn’t have the personality for a polite bedside manner.

She was a decent wartime healer. She could pick allies up in the field of battle and send them on their way. She’d kept her party alive, when she’d been adventuring.

(Until the end, at least)

But she wasn’t a cleric. She didn’t have the deep reserves needed for working in infirmaries like this.

“Kima!”

Kima looked up from the broken arm she was inspecting, recognizing the voice. “Cassandra?”

The young lady of Whitestone rushed past the sick beds and stopped before Kima. She’d clearly been working as well. Her hair was bound back in a braid, and she was wearing an apron with a splatter of blood across the corner. “Come quickly. One of the men—Denmir, I think?—needs you.”

Kima mentally shuffled through the many people she’d treated over the last few days. “Is he the one with the twisted ankle?”

Cassandra shook her head, dark eyes grave. “No, he’s in one of the private rooms.”

Kima swore. Only very important or very injured people had been placed in private rooms. Looking around, she snapped her fingers at one of the volunteers near her. “You. Find a sling for this woman’s arm. I’ll be back in—” She waved a hand vaguely. “—I don’t know. Maybe never.”

Cassandra took off down the hall. Although she walked as silently as ever, there was an urgency to her gait. Kima, with her shorter legs, had to half-jog to keep up.

“What happened?”

“We think there might have been some internal bleeding that Pike missed,” Cassandra said. Her tone was flat, matter-of-fact in the way it was when she was distressed. “He took a turn for the worse a couple hours ago, and nobody else can figure out how to help him.”

“A couple hours ago?” Kima repeated, her tone caught somewhere between horrified and angry, “Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

“You were busy,” Cassandra said, a note of hesitance entering her voice.

Kima waved a hand, grimacing. Cassandra was right. She’d been doing nothing _but_ dealing with emergencies all day, and she was _fucking exhausted._ “Sorry, sorry.” She groaned and rubbed her hands over her face. When Pike had been here, it had been easy enough to spread out her magic, giving people enough to stabilize them but not enough that she reached the point where she was completely drained if an emergency came up. Without Pike there to supplement Kima’s extremely limited healing, Kima simply didn’t have enough magic to prevent emergencies like this.

“Here,” Cassandra said, pushing open one of the doors nearby.

Kima entered, mentally tallying how many spells she’d casted today and despairing at how high the number was, and stopped short upon seeing Denmir. He was lying on his back in a bed in the center of the room, his ashen face sweat-streaked and his chest moving shallowly and erratically as he struggled to breathe.

Kima swore, again.

Immediately, one of the women sitting at his side sprang to her feet. She was young, probably the poor kid’s fiancée or sister. “Please! You have to help him.”

Kima scanned the room. Two women, one older and one younger. An older man. Two teenagers. “Right,” she said, a little breathlessly, “Right.” Her gaze dropped to the man on the bed, and she dragged a chair over and stood on it so that she could see him better. Her mouth settled into a grim line.

He was practically dead already.

Taking a deep breath, she reached out and laid one hand on his forehead. Her touch alone was enough to close wounds, but she’d already expended too much of her magic. The man merely twitched, her power siphoning away into the black void that was a body already slipping away.

 _Fuck_ , she thought, emphatically.

“Okay,” she said, loudly, “Okay! Everybody, get out.”

The older woman protested, “But we—”

“Out!” Kima roared. This man was dying, whether or not his family was in here, and she would much rather deal with that without their watching eyes. “Now!”

Cassandra, with her eyes huge and face pale, quickly turned on the people in the room. “You can just wait in the hallway,” she said, voice level and commanding despite her trembling, “Please.” She ushered them out, acknowledging their protests with a patient smile worthy of a queen.

 _Fuck_ , Kima thought, again. She doubted she had the magic to save this man from dying, and she couldn’t bring somebody back from the dead with Cassandra in the room. “Cassie, could you—” She looked around the room and spotted a jug of water. Snatching it, she thrust it in Cassandra’s direction. “Fill this with holy water.”

Cassandra took it with trembling fingers. “O— okay.” She hesitated just a moment before dashing off.

Kima shut the door. She knew for a fact that there was no holy water in the castle. Cassandra would have to run all the way down to the city and, well. By then Kima would have finished her job, either for better or for worse.

She returned to her chair and took the man’s hand. “I’m sorry,” she said, quietly, “I wish I knew more healing spells.”

He shuddered, jaw falling slack as death finally took him. Kima’s breath caught in her chest.

She hadn’t done this in a very long time.

Grimly, she reached into the pouch at her waist and retrieved a handful of diamonds. With steady hands, she placed them on his chest, on his forehead, and in his open palms. They gleamed faintly in the wintery light that streamed through the window, a grim offering for a grim task.

Closing her eyes, Kima clutched her holy symbol in her hand and focused. 

* * *

 Cassandra could barely breathe against the panic that clawed desperately in her stomach. She clutched the jug to her chest, wary of spilling any of it. There were no temples in the castle, and she’d been unable to find anybody to bless the water either. By the time she got to a temple in the city and ran back to the castle, she felt sick with the fear that she was too late.

Denmir’s family remained clustered outside the door, his younger sister crying into her mother’s shoulder and his uncle pacing nervously.

“Excuse me,” she said, although it came out strangled, and pushed past them and through the door.

She stopped short. Denmir lay perfectly still in the bed, hands flat against the bedsheets. Kima sat with her back to the door, her face in her hands.

“Oh, Pelor,” Cassandra whispered, “Is he—”

“No,” Kima said, voice slightly hoarse, “He's alive.” She turned, and Cassandra quietly shut the door.

“You look terrible.”

Kima laughed, and the sound was not without mirth. “Yeah.”

Cassandra hesitantly held out the jug. Kima stared blankly at it. Cassandra felt that panic rising in her lungs again, and she hugged the jug to her chest. “I didn’t really need to go, did I.” It was a supposed to be a question. It didn't come out as one.

Kima looked up at her, pale grey eyes exhausted. “Would you have rather stayed?”

Cassandra looked down. “No.” She looked back up, eyes settling on Denmir’s face. “Did he. . . .” She trailed off, unable to finish the thought.

Kima turned back, too. At length, she said, “No. He didn’t die.” She groaned and rubbed her eyes. "He's alive, and he'll feel really shitty for at least a week, but he's stable now."

“Oh, okay.” Cassandra’s heart still felt fluttery inside, and she had to lean against the wall to keep her legs straight. The relief that coursed through her was almost as debilitating as the panic had been, and it made her want to laugh aloud. "Do you, um, still want the holy water?"

Kima held out her hands, and Cassandra passed it over. She was still too shaky to really look at Kima or Denmir. Her heart was still pounding from her run, and she had to make a conscious effort to slow her breathing.

When Kima took the jug, she didn’t even look at it before putting it to her lips and taking a huge gulp.

Cassandra choked on her own spit.

Kima set the jug in her lap and looked up, one eyebrow raised. "What?"

Cassandra could only splutter, "Aren't you supposed to be a holy woman?"

Kima made a face. "I'm thirsty, and this is the only water here." She took another gulp. "Besides, I can always bless more for you later." She stood up and swayed dangerously. Cassandra caught her arm and took the jug from her, placing it on the bedside table. Kima amended, "Tomorrow. I can bless some more for you tomorrow."

Cassandra laughed, shakily. "Yeah, you really do look terrible."

Kima let out a loud sigh and tilted her head into Cassandra's side, which was the highest she could reach. "Yeah. I feel pretty terrible." She shook herself and stood up straight. "You can tell his family to come in. I am going to—" She grimaced. "—do something. I don't know. I need—"

"You're going to sleep," Cassandra said firmly.

"Cass—"

"Go to sleep." Cassandra gently pushed Kima towards the door. "I can deal with the emergencies for the rest of the day."

"I'm fine," Kima insisted, the effect diminished somewhat by her inability to walk straight.

Cassandra just shook her head and opened the door. "Hello," she said, softly.

Denmir's sister leaped to her feet. "Can we—"

"Yes," Cassandra said, "You can go in. He's sleeping now, so keep quiet. He's stable now?" The last part was directed at Kima, who nodded. "Right. He's stable now. If any of you need anything, feel free to ask any of the guards nearby."

As they rushed into the room, Cassandra led Kima towards the stairs that led to the bedrooms.

"I'm staying in the city," Kima protested.

"Kima, you would absolutely pass out before you made it there," Cassandra said flatly. Kima was so exhausted that she didn't even argue.

Cassandra led Kima to Vesper's old room. It was a little dusty, but it was one of the few rooms that the Briarwoods hadn't touched, simply because they hadn't needed it. Kima didn't seem to care. She fell onto the bed with a loud groan and declared, "This doesn't mean you're right."

Cassandra, no longer concerned with being ladylike now that they were alone, snorted. "Go to sleep, Kima! I'll see you tomorrow morning."

Kima stuck her hand in the air to give a listless thumbs up before falling limply onto the pillows. Cassandra slipped the door silently shut behind her and walked back towards the infirmary, shaking her head and smiling fondly.

**Author's Note:**

> find me @azaisya on tumblr!


End file.
